


Harry of the Wood

by katiemorag



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemorag/pseuds/katiemorag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Harold Styles returns to England from the Holy Land to find his home in ruins, his father dead and his beloved betrothed taken by the man who was meant to be protecting England in the King's absence. (Based on Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry of the Wood

Harry breathed in the fresh scent of grass and sea air as he fell to his knees on the sands of Dover beach. He grasped the wet sand in his hands and thanked God that he had made it home.  
He heard a chuckle from beside him, he looked up to find Zayn who had rescued him from the Sarasin camp in the Holy Land; the boy’s dark skin would surely attract a lot of attention amongst the pale pallor of the English people. 

“You are a strange one, Christian.” Zayn chuckled as Harry rose and they both began the long walk to Holmes Chapel.

“It’s just good to be home.” Smiled Harry as he laid eyes upon the sprawling green fields he remembered so well.

“Will we be making the trip north to see your beloved?” Said Zayn nudging Harry as he grinned in response.

“I have not seen him in five years, he might belong to another.” Harry admitted mournfully, he truly wished that his beloved had waited for him but he could not deny that many seeked his love’s hand in marriage and he feared that he will have accepted one.

“If he is half as devoted to you as you are to him then he shall remain yours,” Zayn soothed remembering how in the Holy Land when other men would seek the comfort of the beautiful local women and boys, Harry would retreat to his tent and re-read the few letters that had made it to him from England; tracing over the tear-stained paper that only weeks before been held by delicate hands that he longed to touch once again. 

Harry and Zayn walked for nearly four days before Holmes Chapel finally came into sight; Harry caught sight of the looming shadow of his home and began to run towards it. As he got closer, Harry realised something was not right. There were no windows in the frames, there was very little left of the roof and the once grand entrance was now a blackened hole in the wall. Harry let out a shocked gasp as he entered his home to find it ransacked and burnt, fear shot through his body as he found no sign of his family.  
Zayn, who had followed him in, had his eyes fixed on something atop the battlements; Harry sobbed as he realised who the figure hanging was.

“My father…” He sobbed as he was pulled into Zayn’s arms; he let the coloured boy hold him as he cried for the loss of the only family he had left. 

Harry and Zayn spent the night in the ruins of Harry’s home as it had begun to get dark and Zayn had said there was a storm coming; Harry always wondered how the boy knew such things as soon as darkness fell completely thunder rumbled in the sky above them.

The village of Holmes Chapel had once been a bustling hive of activity but now as Harry and Zayn walked in, its residents hid in their homes as if they were afraid of what would happen if they left the safety of their doorways. They made their way towards the market square where a few people lingered and Harry recognised one of the older vendors who had been there for as long as he could remember. 

“Mrs Low? Mrs Low, it’s me Harry; do you remember me?” Asked Harry as he neared the old woman’s stall.

“Harry? The only Harry I know, boy, is the one from Styles manor and he’s fighting in the Holy Land, ya know.” She said squinting her eyes at the boy…no, man, that stood before her.

“Mrs Low, that’s me. It’s Harry Styles, I’m home.” Reaching out and touching the old woman on the shoulder. 

“Harry? Is that really you?” she said disbelievingly as Harry nodded, “oh, my boy, everyone will be so glad you’re home. That awful man came and destroyed your beautiful home, he slaughtered your father, oh it was horrible. He took your betrothed as well, Harry.”

Harry’s rage soared as he heard that last sentence, Zayn placed a hand on his shoulder to placate him but Harry shook it off.

“Where did he take him?” Harry asked, the rage that consumed him evident in his voice was restrained so as not to scare the old woman. 

“Oh, Harry dear; he took him to Nottingham. To make him his bride.” 

“Do you have a horse?” Asked Zayn, stepping in and pushing Harry lightly to the side.

“A painted one? Ain’t seen likes of you round here for years, but aye, we got two fine horses but afraid I’ll have to charge you for ‘em.”

“No, no that’s fine. How much?”

“Three gold.”

Harry reached into his pocket and gave the woman four before swerving round her and going towards the horses at the edge of the square. 

“Thank you, Mrs Low.” Harry dipped his head in respect as he and Zayn turned to make the long journey to Nottingham.

 

Meanwhile in Nottingham.

 

“Let him come home to me, please Lord, just let him come home.” 

“Still praying for him?” Sneered a voice from behind the boy who was kneeling at the altar.

“I shall pray every day until he comes home to me.” Said the boy, eyes still closed in prayer.

“He is never coming home and when you finally realise this is true, you shall marry me.” Crowed Sherriff Lowe; who doubled as Lord Protector in the King’s absence.

The boy at the altar stood and turned, his bright blue eyes blazing in a rage that was rare in such a submissive boy.

“Even if he does not return, I shall never be yours.” He said attempting to brush past the man in the doorway but was stopped as the man grabbed his wrist.

“That’s what you think my dear, but know this, even if your dear Harry does return to England I shall have him killed.”

“No, you can’t.” Gasped the boy as his eyes lost the rage they possessed and widened in fear.

“I can and I will. You shall be mine at all costs.”

With that the man swept out of the room leaving the boy to fall to his knees and weep.

 

En-route to Nottingham.

 

Within the past four days, Harry and Zayn had managed to acquire two new companions who wished to help them due to their own quarrel with the Sherriff. First was Liam, a well-mannered stable boy whose fiancé who had also been taken by the Sherriff and second, was Niall, an Irish boy who had lost everything when the Sherriff had raided the village he had lived in. Liam and Niall knew that the Sherriff had taken Harry’s betrothed but they did not know of Harry’s true identity as a Lord or that of his love.

“Is dinner ready yet?”

Harry was broken out of his reverie by the ever-hungry Irish boy questioning Zayn who merely chuckled and turned back to the pot in front of him. 

A loud scuffle made Harry and the boys turn, there they found at least 10 men who looked like guards standing formidably. 

“You are trespassing on lands that belong to our Lord Protector.” Said the one at the front who Harry remembered as being Guy of Gisbourne.

“As far as I remember, these lands belong to the Styles family.” Said Harry in a tone that neither Niall nor Liam had heard him use; it was the controlling and powerful voice of a Lord that had left Harry’s lips. Niall and Liam looked at him in disbelief before the penny dropped and they realised that ‘Harry’ was really ‘Lord Harold Styles, Favoured Nephew of King Richard the Lionheart’.

“The last of the Styles family died in the Holy Land therefore the ownership of these lands transferred to our Lord Protector.” Said Guy, his eyes widening as he noticed Zayn then narrowing as Harry burst into laughter.

“Who told you that?” He said still chuckling.

“The Sherriff, of course. Why do you find that so funny?”

“No reason.” Harry composed himself and shrugged as the guards advanced upon them and the fight began.

Harry took out four as they advanced with his bow and arrow, Zayn slashed through two with his impressive sword, Liam beat two to the ground with the large stick that he carried and Niall simply beat two up by using their own strength against him; Harry snorted in laughter as he kicked one headfirst into a tree.

“Who are you, outlaw?” Trembled Guy as Harry trained an arrow at his head.

“My name is Harry, these woods as well as these lands are mine. Now go, tell your Sherriff to expect me.” 

Guy and his few remaining guards turned and ran while they were given the chance. 

“Why didn’t ya tell us?” Questioned Niall, brushing dirt off his trousers.

“I didn’t want you treat me any differently.” Admitted Harry as they sat back down around the pot of food.

“What happened? You know, in the Holy Land?” Asked Liam as sipped his food from the bowl instead of using the spoon handed to him.

Harry re-counted the story of his fight and subsequent capture in the Holy Land; he was then thrown into jail, it made him shudder to remember how he had to fall asleep to the screams echoing through the halls. It was there he had met Zayn who was to have his hand cut off for stealing, but it turned out Zayn’s father had been one of the ones to build the jail so he knew how to get out. They escaped together and fled to the English camp. Harry had been severely injured after taking a sword to the side for the King as the night after they returned a Sarasin sneaked into their camp and attempted to kill the King. Harry had luckily disarmed the assassin but had been injured in the process. The King had sent Harry back to England with his deepest gratitude for saving his life that if Harry had not been there, he would have surely lost. Zayn was sent back along with him due to his extensive knowledge of medicine so as to help Harry if his wound were to become infected. He re-told the story of how when they had arrived in England they found Harry’s home in ruins, his family gone and his betrothed taken.

“Shit.” Swore Niall leaning back and trying to digest all the information as well as the food.

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled running a hand through his unruly curls.

With that all four boys cracked up in laughter, although none were quite sure of what they were laughing at, it released the tension that had surrounded them as Harry told them of what had happened.

 

Nottingham. 

 

“…You incompetent fool.” 

Guy dodged to avoid the sword that was hurled his way as the Sherriff yelled at him.

“The public love him, sire. They have named him Harry of the Wood, what he takes, he gives to them and they worship him for it.”

“Put a price on his head. 5000.” Said the Sherriff Lowe sitting in the large throne at the head of the room.

“They shall not give him up, my lord.” Guy had witnessed first-hand the admiration the public had for Harry in a village outside of where he had confronted them; Harry and his men had raided a tax cart and had gave the people of the village their taxes back before putting an arrow through the tax collector’s head.

“10,000.”

“Sire….”

“Wait, you said that he told you he was coming to Nottingham; is that right?” Lowe suddenly sat upright in his chair.

“Yes, my lord, but I don’t see how that is significant.”

“We shall simply kill him when he comes here.” 

“Very good, my lord.” Guy said as he bowed then strode out of the room leaving Lowe to plot the downfall of this troublesome outlaw.

 

Nottingham Square.

 

Harry sneered as large banners showing the Sherriff’s coat of arms decked the main walls of the square in preparation for the wedding. Harry and the boys went unnoticed amongst the large crowds who had gathered to get a glimpse not of the Sherriff but of the unfortunate soul that was to be his partner. They knew he was of high nobility and was one of the few men able to bear children, they had also heard that he was beautiful; that in itself being a reason for their curiosity. Harry smiled slightly as he heard two young girls say that they had heard that the Sherriff’s chosen had eyes like sapphires, in truth, his eyes were a lot lighter and only took up a dark colour when angry (as they had when the Sherriff taunted him, but this Harry did not know) or when deeply sad as they had when Harry had left to fight in the Holy Land.

“You ready?” Asked Liam, clutching Harry’s shoulder. Despite only knowing each other for a few days, the boys felt like they had known each other for years.

Harry could only nod as the Sherriff presented himself on a balcony above the square, high enough to seem important but low enough to shoot at. 

“Welcome, welcome to all of you;” the crowd fell silent as he began to speak, “today is a joyous day. Today is the day when I wed the beautiful and fertile, Louis Tomlinson.” 

A shiver ran through the crowd as a figure in a hood that stood behind Hall let out a painful sob as if it pained them to hear that the wedding was happening. The Sherriff turned and grabbed the figure and pulled it to the edge of the balcony. He pulled down the hood.

“My bride.” He said in pride as the crowd watched in sympathy as the beautiful boy wept. 

He had light naturally feathered hair that danced in the wind, his usually light dancing eyes dark as tears streamed down his face and as the Sherriff yanked his hand into his own the crowd could see his hand trembling as he fought not to turn and run. Harry’s heart broke at the sight.

“Louis…” Harry whispered, his voice broke as he laid eyes upon him once again.

Harry felt Zayn tug on his arm and he knew it was time for the plan to begin but he was stopped when a sudden ripple ran through the crowd and the Sherriff’s cruel laughter ran throughout the square.

“We appear to have caught one of your precious Harry of the Wood’s men, trying to sneak into my castle.” 

Harry turned to the gallows set up at the side of the square where Niall was now being strung up on, his faced dropped in horror as the noose was placed around his neck.

“Do something, Christian.” Zayn urged, Harry turned to find him looking at Niall with the same heart broken pain that Harry had looked at Louis with only moments ago.

Harry turned once again and sprinted through the crowd and up onto one of the battlements where he carefully withdrew his bow and arrow from their hiding place within his walking stick. 

Niall was placed up on the stool and the noose tightened around his neck.

Harry aimed the arrow at where he knew the rope would hang as Niall fell.

Liam stood in shock near Zayn as he watched one of his best friends be sentenced to death.

Zayn dug his fingernails into his palms, praying to Allah that Harry would shoot straight and save the Irish boy.

Louis was still struggling to free his hand from the Sherriff as the man watched gleefully as the countdown began.

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…  
The stool was kicked out from beneath Niall a second after Harry let the arrow go. 

Instead of Niall jerking as the spectators expected, he fell straight to the ground as Harry’s arrow sliced through the rope before it could harm him.

The Sherriff spun around to see who had spoilt his fun but could only find a lone figure in a hood atop one of the battlements.

“Who are you and what do you think you are doing?” He demanded as his guards advanced on the figure.

Harry smirked beneath his hood before pulling it down.

The action was met with silence except for the gasp from beside the Sherriff himself.

“My name is Harold Styles, and I believe Louis Tomlinson belongs to me.” He said confidently before hitting one of the advancing guards that tried to grab him with his a dull end of his bow.

“HAARRRYY!!” 

Harry turned to find Louis being forced back into the castle by the Sherriff who looked beyond mad. Harry’s momentary lapse in concentration had allowed the other guards time to advance on him, Zayn, Liam and surprisingly Niall quickly jumped to his defence. 

They ran to the castle doors and quickly disposed of the guards there. They stood for a minute to catch their breaths.

“Why did you have to go and get yourself caught?” Zayn said irritably turning to Niall.

“Guys, now’s not the ti…” Liam tried to argue but was cut off by Niall.

“You think I meant to get caught? Of course I didn’t you idiot, one of the guards recognised me! I couldn’t do anything!” 

“You could have died, Niall!” Screamed Zayn grabbing Niall by the shoulders and shaking him.

“Why would you care anyway?” Said Niall pushing Zayn off him and turning away.

Zayn looked at Harry who merely exchanged a knowing glance with Liam before nodding his head towards Niall. Zayn grabbed Niall by the shoulders once more but this time spun him around to face him and kissed him hard on the lips.

“As much as this is nice and all we really do need to go.” Harry said breaking Zayn and Niall apart. 

The boys fought their way through the castle until they came to the chapel where screams and shouts could be heard from inside. 

They burst through the doors to find Louis being held by his hair at the altar by the Sherriff who turned and sneered at them as the priest stuttered in his speech.

“What are you waiting for? Marry us!” Shouted Lowe as Harry leapt over the chairs to get to Louis.

“No, no…” Louis shouted struggling out of Lowe’s hold just in time as he lunged forward in an attempt to hit him. 

“Don’t touch him!” Yelled Harry as he pulled out his sword and ran at Lowe.

“Well, well, well. It seems like your precious Harry has returned to you from the Holy Land, Louis. It is a shame that I will have to keep my promise to you and have him killed.” Lowe smirked glancing at Louis who had been pulled out of harm’s way by Niall who was sporting a nasty ring of red around his neck.

“Stop playing games, Lowe.” 

Harry and Lowe circled each other silence before charging at one another.

“Why do you care? I took him years ago.” Lowe smirked as he glanced in Louis’ direction who screamed out his protest. 

Harry knew Lowe was trying to get him riled but he couldn’t help the flash of rage that seared through him at the thought of anyone but him touching Louis.

Harry and Lowe separated from their fighting to start to circle one another again; Niall had ran to help Zayn and Liam who were fighting off the guards trying to get in, leaving Louis unprotected.

Lowe flew toward Louis, grabbed him and pressed the sword to his throat before Harry could blink.

“One more move, Styles. And he dies.” Sneered Hall, pressing his nose into Louis’ hair as he tightened his grip around his neck making Louis whimper.

“No, don’t hurt him.” Harry pleaded laying his sword down on the floor and raising his hands in surrender; Lowe knew that Harry himself would rather die than see Louis suffer that fate.

Lowe released Louis from his grip, throwing him to the side away from Harry; he quickly placed the tip of the sword at Harry’s throat before he could make a move to defend himself.

“Any last words, Styles?” Lowe smirked his dark eyes glinting horribly.

Harry did not look at Lowe but at Louis who was shuffling slowly closer to the pair with a dagger raised in the air. 

“Louis, I love you.” 

Louis gasped alerting the Sherriff to his close presence, he turned giving Harry the distraction he needed. He grabbed the sword of the ground and staked the Sherriff with it.  
Lowe crumbled to the floor with Harry’s sword through his heart, he grunted in pain before going completely motionless.

Harry and Louis’ eyes connected a second before they flew at each other, both gripping to the other as if afraid if they lessened their grip the other would disappear. Louis buried himself in Harry’s neck as Harry breathed in the familiar scent of Louis’ hair. 

“I thought you’d died, I thought you’d left me.” Sobbed Louis as Harry stroked his hair and kissed his head.

“Never, Louis; never.” Harry placed his finger under Louis’ chin to get the other boy to face him, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Louis’, enjoying the gasp that left Louis as he melted into the kiss; Harry tightened his arms around Louis’ waist as Louis’ hands gripped the curls at the back of his head.

Loud shouts and cheers from outside caused the two to break apart, Harry dragged Louis outside followed by the boys to find the King dismounting his horse. Every person in the square fell to their knees as the King removed his helmet. 

“Harold, what in the name of all that is Holy is going on?” The King demanded pulling Harry up from the ground and into a tight embrace.

“The Sherriff, uncle, he devastated the lands, killed my father and tried to Louis away from me.” Harry explained bowing his head as he spoke directly to the King; he may have been his favourite nephew but he still had to show respect to the King.

“Ah, and where might the Sherriff be at this present moment?” The King said frowning at Harry in all almost amused way.

“He’s dead, sire.” Harry smiled; the King smiled widely in return before pulling Harry into another hug.

“Now, where’s that boy of yours?” Richard said as he motioned for the people in the square to rise from their places on their knees.

Harry turned to pull Louis forward as he got up, Louis stumbled into Harry’s side lowering his head in respect.

“Sire.” He bowed respectively to the King.

“So, you’re the boy Harry never shut up about in the Holy Land;” Richard smiled at Louis who turned to frown at Harry at the statement but found himself gazing instead still not believing that he was home and safe, “it’s nice to finally meet you Louis.” 

“You too, sire.” Louis said nodding his head once again.

“Now from what I heard there was meant to be a wedding.” Richard said looking pointedly at Harry from under his brows, he looked so much like Harry’s dear departed mother in that moment that he stuttered in his breath.

“Louis,” Harry turned to face Louis taking both his hands in his own, “I know this day has been stressful for you and I know you’ve been waiting for me for so long but I want you to know that I love you with all my heart and that I never want to be without you for a single day ever again. You were what kept me alive in the Holy Land, Lou, the prospect of being able to see you once again one day was what got me out of that prison there. You kept me alive through your few letters that made it to me, just knowing that you had touched that same paper a few weeks before made me so happy because I knew you were safe. I love you more than anything in this world. So Louis Tomlinson, will you do the honour of marrying me right here today?” 

Louis stood in shock throughout Harry’s speech, one if his hands breaking out of Harry’s to cover his mouth as tears streamed down his face. He opened his mouth and closed it as if unable to form a coherent word; he glanced sideways at the King who stood with a small smile on his face before throwing caution to the wind and launching himself at Harry attaching their lips with great force. It was as if the touch of their lips was enough to spring Louis’ vocals back into action as he repeated “yes, Harry, god, yes, I love you, I love you so much. I missed you. Yes, I love you;” over and over again against Harry’s lips. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist tightly and pulled him impossibly closer as a cheer went up from the surrounding crowd.

“We better get to the wedding, wouldn’t want to waste a good night of celebration because you two can’t restrain yourselves.” Richard smirked as Louis and Harry continued to kiss.

 

Harry and Louis were married that day under the blessing of King Richard the Lionheart.

And so Louis and Harry finally got their happy ending as did Niall who ended being the head cook at the newly-refurbished Styles manor along with his husband Zayn who didn’t have an official job title but spent most of his time doing what Niall told him to and Liam and his fiancé Danielle who they had rescued from the Sherriff’s castle lived in a quaint up-market cottage given to them by Harry and Louis for their wedding.

 

Harry smiled as he reminisced on how fortunate he had been in his life to have such a beautiful creature for his own, as if sensing Harry’s eyes on him Louis looked up from the floor where was playing with their son, George. Harry’s stomach fluttered as Louis’ eyes danced with the reflection of the fire light.

“I love you, Louis Styles.” Harry said softly, leaning out of his chair to caress Louis’ cheek.

“As I love you, Harry Styles.” Louis replied smiling and nudging his face into Harry’s hand.

From the floor, a three-year old George grinned toothily up at his parents, he didn’t know a lot but he knew that his parents loved each other dearly and loved him just as much.

Harry was happy.

Harry was home.

**Author's Note:**

> so another repost from my tumblr to here, this one hasn't changed much. i hate the title of this so if you've got any suggestions as to what i could rename it, it would be most welcome. thank you so much for reading :)


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